The Wagatha Christie libel trial is all over bar the Netflix documentary, the Channel 4 docudrama and the possibility that Rebekah Vardy might fancy a sequel and follow up her self-induced legal defeat with an undaunted attempt to appeal.
But like the “WAG” term from which the whole fandango derives its name, this feels over.
And, without wishing to contradict the legal experts who have been out warning that social media is a dangerous place to throw about accusations, notwithstanding Coleen Rooney’s victory, this case also feels unique.
Even before Friday’s ruling, the events that led to this circus already seemed to hail from a different age. Could it even happen again, given the sorry state of Instagram, the app with a starring role in the saga?
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Vardy’s attempts to exploit her proximity to the more famous footballer’s wife suggest she was not exactly a casual follower.
Granted, Rooney’s Instagram sting operation availed of stories — customisable images and videos that appear on a top-of-screen bar for 24 hours — and stories are one feature of the Meta-owned platform that users can still enjoy without being bombarded by algorithmic landfill.
But her initial suspicions, beginning in September 2017, that a follower of her private Instagram account was leaking information about her personal life to the Sun were triggered by news articles repeating information she had put in her posts.
Posts, once the essence of Instagram, are images or videos that appear in followers’ main feed — or, at least, they did before Meta chief executive Mark Zuckerberg started applying his reverse Midas touch.
Today, an Instagram feed can be so overwhelmed by “suggested” posts and reels (short TikTok-esque videos) and ads from businesses “that may be interesting and relevant to you” — as the company optimistically puts it — that the chances of seeing a post from an account you actually follow are almost as diminished as Vardy’s reputation.
Although there are ways — limited ways — to counteract this chaotic mishmash, it seems fair to say that followers of Rooney’s private account would be more likely to miss her posts in 2022 than they would have been back in September 2017.
Of course, Vardy’s attempts to exploit her proximity to the more famous footballer’s wife suggest she was not exactly a casual follower. Probably no volume of feverish Meta feed spam would have deterred her.
Also, even a private account with a modest follower count of about 300 will cut through the Insta-noise better than most if its owner is a well-liked celebrity like Rooney.
So this is not a perfect hypothesis. Still, the general point stands: a post on a private Instagram account just feels that bit more private now.
Rooney’s logic for using stories, not posts, to catch the leaker was the ability it gave her to use the hide-a-story function to finely control who had access to them. Instagram would then tell her which accounts the stories had been “seen by”.
Civilian Instagrammers, by contrast, often use stories for the prosaic reason that they know this is how their friends will most likely see their updates. There is less clutter in that top bar — for now, at least.
The terminology can be confusing. Indeed, Vardy was asked by her own barrister, Hugh Tomlinson, if she could explain to the court the difference between the way stories and posts are displayed.
In both media coverage and Mrs Justice Steyn’s judgment, examples of Rooney’s fake news bait have been referred to as posts — “the Gender Selection Post”, “the Flood Basement Post” — though it was central to her super-sleuthing that they were, in fact, stories.
Most Instagrammers, however, will have a good handle on the origin of stories as a Snapchat copycat feature and be aware that the newest method of adding videos to the app — reels — was inspired by the success of TikTok. But understanding is not the same as liking. For many, the recent changes Meta has made to Instagram, and the further changes Zuckerberg threatened last week, will be infuriating.
The Facebook founder took the opportunity of Meta’s second-quarter earnings call with Wall Street analysts to double down on his intentions to transform Instagram into a video-led TikTok clone.
AI-driven recommendations from accounts that users don’t follow currently represents about 15 per cent of what they see on Facebook and a “little more” than this on Instagram, Zuckerberg claimed. (It feels like more.) He then said he expected those percentages to be 30 per cent by the end of 2023.
Meta’s earnings release, which revealed its first ever revenue decline and forecasted another one, came at an awkward moment. Thanks to Kylie Jenner, who shared a “make Instagram Instagram again” meme in her stories, a wave of user complaints had just crashed into the headlines.
Jenner is not the only one who wants to “see cute photos” of her friends, not random sub-TikTok drivel. But having notoriously prompted a $1.3 billion fall in Snap’s stock value in 2018 when she said she no longer used Snapchat, she is a special case.
Zuckerberg and Vardy have some things in common. They are both in the business of leveraging social media connections for their own gain.
If even influencers with 361 million followers are annoyed, what hope is there for anyone else to have a good time? Can this unloved mess really be what advertisers want either?
Sure enough, head of Instagram Adam Mosseri was soon U-turning on the app’s latest tests and updates, announcing there would be fewer recommended posts until its algorithm improves.
It’s a temporary reprieve. Instagram remains keen on becoming increasingly less about the “social” and more about the “media”. Meta still really wants users to lean back and be grateful for whatever auto-playing nonsense they’re given.
Zuckerberg and Vardy have some things in common. They are both in the business of leveraging social media connections for their own gain. They have both, at times, exhibited a dubious grasp of the concept of privacy. They are both vulnerable to being outsmarted by their peers.
And they both possess impeccable skills when it comes to self-inflicted wounds. Zuckerberg’s are on track to cost him a great deal more than Vardy’s legal bill.